Friday, October 09, 2009


Obama Hope Rebel Flag, and ER's epiphany

This image made my brain seize plumb up, especially in light of my recent epiphany-decision regarding my own casual display of that Damned Red Flag of the Rebellion

In a nutshell: I no longer casually display it, although I do still intend to have all the flags of the CSA displayed in my home office, along with other controversial artifacts of history, if and when I ever get my home office set back up from the flood of over a year ago.

The epiphany:

I was at a Little Caesar's Pizza place awhile back and the guy behind the counter, about as big a fella as me, and I just hit it off right off the bat, BS'ing and carrying on like we were brothers or close cousins or something. It was one of those unexpected human encounters that just leaves you filled and uplifted.

I left with a pizza. At my car, I took out my keys -- and there was the Rebel flag key fob I've carried for years. My heart fell and I wept, realizing that had I pulled those keys out in the store that wonderful human encounter would never have happened.

That black man behind the counter is my brother. And because I am *his* brother, and for the sake of the brotherhood of man, I took the flag fob off my keys when I got home.

It was not easy. That image has been a part of who I am -- or who I like to think I am, anyway -- just about my whole life. But it was not only the right thing to do, I'm glad I did it -- I had to do it, for myself as much as anyone else.


Identity is not static. It is indeed a part of who you were, and there is no reason for shame or remorse about that. Your epiphany was less about that key fob and more about how you see yourself now.

1 Corinthians 13:11 might help, or I might be stepping on your toes, I don't know.
Yes. As I become a man in ChristJesus, I put childish things behind me. Therewith, I step on my own toes.
Despite what Lucy says, you be a good man Charlie Brown, a good man indeed.

Recently tracked down "all" my "Family" name Civil War soldiers/sailors via a site accessable from the Shiloh Battle Field site. Only about 60 of them. 28 Southern and 32 Federals. Talk about the disfunctional family.

Heritage and history are things we need to know and hold dear, but maybe not wear on our shoulders.
You know, not long ago, one of my oldest friends actually got a dang battle flag tattoo on his shoulder. In defiance. Ugh. He's entitled, and his business. But ugh.
You know, Dr. ER mistook my tears and dissembling that night for happiness, or joy, or something like that, which I only found up several days later when I was talking about it and how hard it was/is to set the dang thing aside for casual use. Man, it will seem silly to anyone who doesn't get it, but it's a genuine "dying to self." Dr. ER, not being up on such lingo, didn't understand. I said, "Look, Jesus did not skip merrily to the Cross. In some of the Scriptures, he begged that he not have to die -- but "not mine, but thy will be done." My redneck heart wants to tell the world to kiss my ass. But I can't, 'cause it aint right. Not to belabor this point. LOL. Ha! ya know, my smart-ass redneck heart just had an idea: Maybe I'll come up with a bumper sticker and T-shirts that have a blank spot and that say: "American by birth; Southerner with no need to wave the Rebel flag by the Grace of God!"
Yikes! I *always* misuse that word, "dissemble"!

I do not mean I dissembled. Geez.

I mean I was sort of falling apart.

Carry on.
I remember terrific pain at times in my stumbling growth from childhood to manhood, especially on issues that came after my twenties.

And as someone wrote: nostalgia is simply a desire to evade the linearity of time.

In other words, nostalgia is an animal whose sharp, tearing teeth come at the end rather than the beginning warm embrace.
And issues that still rise.
Re, "nostalgia is simply a desire to evade the linearity of time"

Nostalgia in self defense. I reckon so.
I'm still just a wee bit troubled by what your "home office" represents, psychologically speaking, for you.

If your *brother* deserves the kindness in public, why not also in private? Is he still not your brother? Is any man, white or black or brown or whatever, not your brother?

Does anyone, do you yourself deserve the compartmentalization?
The key fob was an in-your-face declaration of independence with no context.

The flags, and the 1920s Klan medallion, and some other things, and the books "Marijuana Growing Tips," "Satanic Verses" and "The Last Temptation of Christ" I keep in a place where I, virtually always alone, think -- specifically because they are controversial and some people want them done away with utterly or kept only in museums with the "right" interpretation.

Oh, and the SCV throw in the manroom will probably go in a closet with the certificate of my former membership in the Sons of Confederate Veterans, as artifacts of my personal life -- after I wash all the dog off of it.
Alright. I concede.

My need for separation is greater than yours. An entirely subjective standard, as both personally and culturally defined -- the difference between our life-worlds.
I think this is a good decision, my friend, and I'm proud of you for making it. Knowing how you were raised -- having been raised in the same town -- I appreciate the difficulty. Good job!
Many thanks, Tech. :-)
That's a great story. I don't know what to say, so I'll quote some brainy guy:

Arab poet As Samaul (around 500 A.D.)
"When a man's honor is not debased, every cloak he wears is beautiful"

...or even a flag key fob can look pretty good in a good story like this.
Thanks, Montag. :-)
What does that flag mean? Some of us in Mississippi have been trying to figure it out. I was googling it and saw your post (and I was inspired by your words - you go, redneck!)

I especially liked the blog name because mine is Remedial Rednceck. I not particularly erudite, but I'm learning new and better ways to be the redneck I was raised to be. :-)
Lord help me, I can't type to day. (I not erudite, rednceck....

Apologies, I have no idea where my fingers went when I typed that reply to your blog post!
:-) I think it means something now that not even the founding fathers of the SCV meant it to mean.
I reckon I need to start bloggin' again.
Seems to be selling like hotcakes in Mississippi at some roadside stands - and I can't think it's selling like that down here if it's meant to be something good. This is not exactly Obama country.
I need to get back to doing it more often myself. I listed your blog on my "blogs visited". Hope you don't mind.
OH! You mean the Obama/Battle Flag. ... Well, my guess is it means:

We are white. poor and proud, but not freaking stupid; President Obama is still a better prez for us than any damned rich asshole of whatever race. But I'm just guessin'. ... And no, I don't mind. :-)
Not in Mississippi; I may feel that way and you may feel that way, but that ain't playing in most white Mississippi heads. Some of us aren't totally stupid, but the rest of them.....maybe I better stop before I'm unkind about people who will cut off their noses to spite their faces. I guess that's enough trouble without me piling on.
Well, then, I dunno why these flags would be sellin'!

G'night, and peace!
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